Family Bonds
by smoking-tulips
Summary: The last thing he expected when he started to explore the island was a child - a child of his kin. Vikingera oneshot - might continue if inspiration strikes me hard.


_A.n: I needed some Norway&Iceland brotherly bonding. so here we go_~

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><p>Out of all the things Norway expected to find when he started to explore the cold and as far as he knew: uninhibited island – it certainly was not a child.<p>

The tiny child dressed in a dirty and stained tunic stared up at him in wonder and fear. In return Norway could only stare back in shock, awe and confusion.

The white haired child tilted his head slightly before turning around and setting of at great speed away from Norway.

The Nordic nation stared after the little boy before setting off after him.

His sword and axe was slowing him down as he tried to manoeuvre the unknown landscape and eventually forced him to slow down his pace to a brisk walking pace.

Cursing under his breath he surveyed the scene in front of him.

Up ahead was a rather impressive mountain – even if he had taller ones in his home – and there, halfway up was the small child.

Norway frowned and set off after the boy again – determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Climbing the steep hill he grumbled angrily as his cloak got caught on a dead branch. Once he'd untangled his clothes he tried to spot the small boy once again – but to no avail.

The child was nowhere in sight.

Perhaps it had been one of the fea-folk's children?

But he hadn't felt the magical presence from the child that he usually felt around others of the underworld.

He personally knew every single one of the people living on this island – they were all his people.

This child he had never seen before – and thus he vowed to get to the bottom of this.

Perhaps it was one of his own kin? Another nation in the form of a human? Norway's people had settled on this newly discovered island only a winter ago – already they called it home. Could this little child be the proof that his people were no longer his?

Trudging further up the mountain he had to stop – a deep and unsettling noise was coming from the ground. Small rocks and the grass shivered as the whole mountain seemed to start to move.

Something definitively wasn't right.

But there!

He heard something.

Turning abruptly to his right he clambered over a few rocks following the sound of someone coughing.

As the mountain shook with a deep rumble, Norway spotted the white haired child curled up under a bush. Shivering as he continued to cough into his tiny hands.

Removing his cloak he carefully made his way over to the small boy.

"Hei...you all right?" he carefully inquired.

The small child curled up even more and tried to inch further under the bush and away from the tall and strange man.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Norway offered the cloak towards the small child as he took a seat on the ground close to the kid – ignoring the growing grumble the earth below him was giving off. It sounded like a dragon snoring. Sounds like that never bode well.

Hopefully he hadn't upset a large Jotne or something...

the small child coughed dryly and whimpered as the mountain once again shook.

Glancing around Norway decided he didn't feel like staying very much longer. With a sigh he quickly stood up and grabbed the child, wrapping the small and frail body in his own cloak before starting the decent.

The white haired child kicked and wriggled, tears streaming down his face as he tried to get away from the Nordic nations strong grip.

"Shhh, don't be afraid. Everything will be fine" Norway's voice was barely above a whisper as he held the small child tightly against himself. One arm around the child legs, the other over his back – ensuring the child would not fall from his grip.

His voice seemed to still the child somewhat – but it didn't stop the tears.

Nor did the dry coughing subside either.

Reaching the foot of the mountain, he stopped to take a look up the mountain – paling slightly at the sight that meet him.

Smoke was bellowing from the top – and the whole mountain was rumbling like never before.

The child in his arm still shook and coughed – making Norway worry greatly.

Ignoring the fact that the mountain seemed to be the gate to Hel's home he quickly set off back to the small village on the coast. Time was precious and he did not want to stay anywhere near that mountain for any longer than necessary.

As he reached the village, the people give him a worried look. They could see the smoke rising from the mountain – but what made them stare even more was the small child in his arms.

"Stay inside...I don't know what that is...but it can't be good."

The villagers nodded somberly and were quick to gather any animals or other people still outside. No one was taking any chances.

Kicking the door to his own home open he quickly put the small child into his bed – covering his frail body with reindeer skins and as many blankets as possible.

The warmth seemed to still most of the shivering, but the white haired child still whimpered and coughed.

Frowning, Norway rummaged through his kitchen for anything he could give the small child.

Glancing worriedly over to the bed, he tried to crush the Goat Willow bark as quickly as possible before adding it to boiling water. Hopefully it would still the small child's pain. Stirring the boiling concoction he flinched slightly as the kid whimpered again under the covers.

Scratching his head he tried to think, Faeroes, Orkney and Shetland had never been ill like this...he was rather at loss for what to do.

"Having trouble?" a soft voice whispered.

"Yeah" he replied as he let the small green fea take a seat on his shoulder. "I'm not sure what medicine to give to a child." he admitted to the small winged woman.

"Well you're on the right track with the bark." she mused as she fluttered over the boiling pot.

"Have you got suggestions for what to do next?" He inquired as he glanced back at the still coughing child.

"Add milk and honey...and some Angelica Herbs, that should do the trick."

"Thank you." Norway mumbled as he quickly rose to find the dried herbs – sprinkling it over the boiling mixture. Stirring a few more times for good measure he took the pot off the fire and fished out the bits of bark and herb floating at the top.

Finding a wooden cup he carefully poured half of the bark and herb-infusion into it before adding a a spoonful of honey and some milk – stiring before making his way back to the bedside.

The child stirred, whimpering as Norway helped him sit up slightly.

"Here, drink this...it will make you feel better."

He held the cup up to the child's lips and watched as he hesitantly took a small sip of the mixture.

Once it was all gone Norway helped the boy back under the warm blankets and animal furs.

As he turned to go back to the fire he felt a small tug on his tunic. The little white haired child was holding onto the blue fabric with what might he could muster.

"What's wrong?" he inquired as he squatted down to the child's eye-level.

"I'm scared..." came the weak reply. Norway smiled slightly - at least the child had a voice.

Norway set the cup on the floor before climbing into the bed himself, lifting the small boy up into his arms.

Whenever Faeroes had a nightmare he'd do the same – hopefully it would calm this child too.

Wiping a few tears away from his eyes, the small boy settled comfortable down on Norway's chest – the dry cough subsiding ever so slightly.

Eventually he fell asleep – Norway watching over him the entire time, panicking ever so slightly every time the little boy's breathing stopped for a little moment before coming out as a cough.

As the sun disappeared and darkness engulfed the village, Norway found himself slipping into dreamland along with the child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He awoke to the feeling of something tugging his hair.

Opening his eyes he was met with a pair of violet eyes staring back at him, full of curiosity.

The little boy was sitting on his stomach pulling gently on his hair as he studied the strange blonde haired man.

"Good morning..." Norway carefully propped himself up to a sitting position in the bed as the child smiled shyly up at him.

"How are you feeling?"

The little boy lifted his hands above his head and smiled. Norway chuckled and gave the child a hug.

It was all the confirmation he needed really.

"So...what's your name then?" He inquired , voice still a little gruff from sleeping.

The white haired boy scrunched up his face as he though hard about that question – after a few minutes he finally gave up.

"I dunno" he mumbled.

Petting the child's white locks, Norway though for a moment before smiling.

"Ísland" he stated matter of factly.

The child stared up in wonder at him before blinking a few times.

"Í-Ísland?" he repeated, testing the word out for himself.

Norway nodded. This little child was just like him – a nation.

The same comforting feeling he felt around Denmark, Sweden, Faeroes, Orkney and Shetland was present when he held Ísland in his arms.

"Who are you then?"

"Norge." he replied with a smile.

"Are you my father?"

Norway snorted and ruffled the kids hair with a smile.

"No...not quite." he replied.

"Then what are you?" Iceland was curious as to why this person he'd never met before seemed to be so warm and comforting to be around. It was a new experience for him. He'd watched the children in the village play with their parents and from what he had gathered a father was someone strong and fearless who protected his child no matter what. This Norge-person fitted this idea perfectly.

"I guess you could say I'm more like...a big brother." Norway chuckled and pinched Iceland's cheek lightly, earning him a frown from the small child.

"Big brother?"

Norway nodded. Iceland seemed to mull this new information over for a while before he wrapped his arms around Norway's neck.

"Then Norge can't leave me...because family is important...Puffin told me so."

The elder Nordic let a small laugh escape his lips as he hugged Iceland back. "That's right...family do stick together." He didn't mention he probably couldn't stay with him forever. The life of a nation was long and uncertain. Yet for the time being he could at least stay here on the cold island or bring the child back to his home. Time would tell.

"You hungry?" he asked as he tried to swing his legs over the bed-frame.

Iceland shook his head, but the rumble from his stomach betrayed him.

"Lair...come on. Should be some bread here somewhere..." Norway held the child in his arms as he went about his way finding food for them both. He didn't have much of a choice – the kid had a very firm grip around his neck and Norway didn't really have the heart to make him let go yet.

The two ended up sitting in the bed eating their breakfast, Iceland placing himself in Norway's lap – occasionally turning around to face his 'older brother' to ensure it wasn't just a dream and that he was no longer alone.

After breakfast the two nations spent most of the day cutting up some of Norway's old tunics, sewing them into smaller ones for Iceland to wear.

The little boy was overjoyed at the sight of one of them. Proudly parading around the little house in his new clothes – that he had proclaimed were the best in the world because they matched his big brothers'.

"How long have you been here?" Norway asked as he combed Iceland's hair throughout – there were leaves and pieces of dried flora in-between the silvery white locks of hair, and possibly a few lice. Norway was having none of that. A Viking had to be presentable! Especially since they represented nations.

Iceland bit his bottom lip and stared down the the fur-skin they were sitting on. "I'm not sure...I'm sorry." he weakly added.

Norway stopped combing the child's hair and lifted him up for a hug. "It's okay, if you don't know then it doesn't matter."

He already had a good inclination of the child's age – he looked roughly three winters old. Possibly four if he was malnourished. But looks hardly mattered for a nations age. Iceland could be less than one winter old and look much older. Considering his people had only settled here a winter ago – Norway presumed that was his age.

The young nation tilted his head backwards to meet the blonde Nordic's eyes and smiled happily at his older brother.

In return Norway couldn't help but smile back.

"Can you tell me a story?"

Norway blinked a few times as he considered the odd request. "A...story?"

"Yeah...I heard the other children talk about the sagas of their parents..." Iceland nervously pulled at the hem of his new tunic.

"Well...I suppose there is no harm in a little bedtime-saga."

The white haired boy's eyes lit up and was quick to jump under the blankets and covers.

Norway chuckled and tucked the boy in before making himself comfortable.

"Whenever you feel lonely, rest assured Heimdall watches over you..."

"Heimdall?" Iceland inquired with curiosity as he inched closer to his brother

"He is the son of nine daughters of the sea; the wave maidens Gialp, Greip, Egia, Augeia, Ulfrun, Aurgiafa, Sindur, Atla and Iarnsaxa. He is as kind as he is beautiful and holds much wisdom, this is why he said himself willing to watch over the god's bridge Bifröst. The gods thanked him by bestowing upon him many powers..."

"What kinds of powers?" the young nation interrupted, eager to find out more about this powerful god that rose out from the sea surrounding his island.

Norway chuckled and let the small child clamber onto his chest before continuing his story.

"Heimdall was bestowed upon him senses so keen he can hear grass grow on the hillside of any town, ever hear the wool on a sheep's back lengthen..."

"Wow" Iceland gripped Norway's tunic with his little fists and rested his head over Norway heart, the steady beat reminding him of waves gently washing up on the shores.

"...and because they wished to keep the bridge free from Jötuns, the gods gave him the sight of many hawks and eagles, yet he needs no sleep. He sees and hears much of what goes on in our mortal realm – much like Hugin and Munin do for Odin." Norway smiled and stroked Iceland's silver hair.

"Haimdall is dressed in white armour...like your hair..."

"Really?" Iceland sat up suddenly, pulling at his own hair "The same colour?"

Norway nodded, making Iceland grin from ear to ear before settling down under the covers. He had never seen anyone on the island with hair colour like his own, no one had yet to grow to such an age yet on the island. For the little child nation is was a comfort to know that a God wore the same colour – even if it was only armour.

As the elder male continued his sagas of Heimdall and his fellow Æsir and Vanir, Iceland quietly slipped into dreamland. Safe and warm in his brothers arms.

Norway eventually extinguished the little oil-lamp next to the bed and tucked the both of them in with the best of his abilities. He'll have plenty of time to tell Iceland every story and saga of the gods. Every rule there is and every trick in the book on how to be a proper viking – he'll share them with Iceland. Because if it's one thing he knows; it's that he needs to pass down the legacy to the younger generation.

Language, stories, culture and religion.

Because when Ragnarok comes it's the younger ones who will pick up where the elders laid down.

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><p><em>A.N: Hi, I'm ill and not slept for 36 hours. sorry for inaccuracies...I tried making it all make sense (even read viking sagas to find a real story for Norway to tell Iceland.) hope you liked it none the less~~<em>

_(yes those herbs are real medicinal herbs - and you might have noticed: but I love norse mythology references in fics)_


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